Thud.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  In the middle of a damp forest, the uneven sound of someone staggering forward echoed softly.

  The steps were erratic and uncoordinated, like a marionette with its strings tangled.

  While a faint rasping noise accompanied the footsteps, the strained heaving of a man struggling to breathe.

  The figure was barely recognizable as human... so battered, bruised, and soaked that he seemed more like a shadow of life than life itself.

  Davey.

  His long blonde hair clunged to his battered body, drenched from the rain that had finally subsided.

  Mud and dirt sticked to his tattered clothes, still damp from the shallow grave he’d clawed himself out of.

  Blood and grime streaked his face and chest, and his right arm... gone at the shoulder... hung as a ghost of what it had been.

  Yet, despite the agony that coursed through him, Davey moved.

  His legs trembled while his knees threatened to buckle with every step, but something within him refused to let him fall.

  The rain had washed away the dirt that buried him, but it could not wash away the betrayal.

  His eyes had become void of any light as they stared ahead blankly.

  His body moved forward as though it was getting pulled by an invisible string, dragged along by the strength of his will alone.

  “This is where it ends, isn’t it?” he muttered to himself.

  His voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper, breaking through the cold silence of the forest.

  “If it’s not starvation, it’ll be the animals. Or maybe I’ll collapse first.”

  He felt the truth of his words in every labored breath, every aching joint.

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  His body screamed at him to stop, to rest, to give up.

  But his mind, though shattered, didn't listen to anything like a stubborn child.

  "I can't..." Davey whispered as his voice trembled.

  "Not yet."

  His legs kept moving, one step at a time.

  His feet dragged through the damp earth and crushed the wet grass beneath him.

  The cold air stung his skin as his wound throbbed, but none of it mattered to him.

  The only thing that drove him forward was the question that burned in his soul.

  Why?

  Why had they done it?

  Why had the world used him and thrown him away?

  Why had the Goddess chosen him only to let him fall so far?

  He clenched his jaw as his teeth grinded together as he remembered their voices... the words that had cut him deeper than any blade ever could.

  “Let’s bury him. He’s useless now.”

  Davey’s hand balled into a trembling fist.

  "I need... answers" he muttered under his breath as his voice seemed to gain strength despite the agony it carried.

  ---

  The pungent smell of blood, sharp and metallic, cut through the damp air.

  Davey stopped in his tracks as his senses were weakened but still able to recognize the familiar scent.

  His weary eyes scanned the area, and they fell on a disturbing sight... a large rabbit lay motionless, dead on the forest floor while its body torn open.

  An eagle stood over the carcass while its sharp beak was coated in blood.

  Davey’s eyes lingered on the rabbit’s lifeless form.

  His empty stomach churned, and a wave of nausea washed over him.

  But the hunger was stronger, gnawing at him like a feral beast.

  The eagle noticed him.

  Its head cocked sharply while its golden eyes narrowed as it spread its wings wide in a show of dominance.

  It screeched in a sharp and piercing sound as if to warn him away from its meal.

  Davey said nothing.

  He simply stared at the bird, his gaze locked onto its sharp talons and blood-stained feathers.

  The eagle, unnerved, met his eyes.

  And in those eyes, it saw something primal.

  The reflection of a lion.

  A wounded lion, battered and bruised, but with a fire in its eyes that refused to be extinguished.

  The eagle hesitated for a moment as its wings faltered mid-flap.

  Then, with a panicked screech, it took off into the sky while its cries echoed through the forest.

  Davey didn’t move and watched as the bird disappeared into the clouds.

  Slowly, he crouched down beside the rabbit’s body while his limbs trembled with the effort.

  “This is what it’s come to...” he muttered bitterly.

  His voice was low and laced with self-loathing.

  “Eating scraps like a beast just to keep moving.”

  He reached out, grabbing the rabbit by its bloodied ears.

  The carcass dangled limply in his grasp as the blood dripped onto the damp earth below.

  His stomach turned at the thought of eating it raw.

  The metallic stench made him want to retch.

  But he knew that he had no choice.

  "If I stop now..." he whispered to himself as his voice grew colder.

  "If I give up here... I'll die a pathetic, meaningless death. Without answers. Without knowing why."

  Davey bit into the rabbit.

  The taste was vile and the texture felt slimy and revolting.

  His body protested violently, his throat tightened as he forced himself to swallow.

  But he didn’t stop.

  He tore into the flesh with his teeth as his fingers dug into the warm meat.

  Each bite sent waves of nausea through him, but he kept going.

  Because survival was the only thing that mattered now.

  As the last remnants of the rabbit disappeared...

  Davey leaned back against a tree, his breathing was still heavy.

  His body still trembled from exhaustion, but something had changed.

  In his eyes, a new light flickered.

  The light of determination.

  “This isn’t the end...” he muttered in a much steady voice.

  He clenched his remaining hand into a fist as the sharp sting of his nails digging into his palm grounded him.

  “I’ll survive. No matter what. I’ll live... until I find out why.”

  His mind, though broken and battered, focused on one thought... the truth.

  The truth about his betrayal.

  The truth about the world.

  And, perhaps most importantly, the truth about himself.

  For the first time in his life, Davey felt something new stir within him.

  It wasn’t the calm sense of duty he’d felt when he served the Goddess.

  Nor was it the blind faith he’d carried into battle for his comrades or the warm affection he had held for Alice.

  No, this was different.

  This was rage.

  A cold, simmering fury that ignited deep within his core and was burning away the sorrow and self-pity.